(Poem #58) The Force that Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower
The force that through the green fuse drives the flower Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees Is my destroyer. And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose My youth is bent by the same wintry fever. The force that drives the water through the rocks Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams Turns mine to wax. And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks. The hand that whirls the water in the pool Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind Hauls my shroud sail. And I am dumb to tell the hanging man How of my clay is made the hangman's lime. The lips of time leech to the fountain head; Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood Shall calm her sores. And I am dumb to tell a weather's wind How time has ticked a heaven round the stars. And I am dumb to tell the lover's tomb How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.
Few poets manage to be simultaneously as lyrical and as powerful as Dylan Thomas. The poem above is a perfect example - images are stark, yet with a compelling beauty that both attracts and chills the reader. This poem did take me a while to appreciate, but it is definitely one of those that improve with rereading. The insistent rhythm, the reinforcing of images and the repetitive construction all combine to stick it in the reader's mind, in a manner characteristic of Thomas. Note, in passing, the thematic similarity to 'Do Not Go Gentle'. m.